


Dust in the stars of her eyes

by Curlsandcollege



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Roommates, SO FLUFFY, Watching movies when you feel sad, bar trivia, musical theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlsandcollege/pseuds/Curlsandcollege
Summary: Felix has a new roommate. A good one, by all objective measures. It should really be a perfect situation.Except he keeps lingering to hear her sing. And now he knows way too much about musical theatre.Unrelated, he might be in love with her.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77
Collections: Nettefelix_Sweets and Treats_2021





	Dust in the stars of her eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sweets and Treats! Enjoy some lovely, musical tinted fluff. 
> 
> Title from Cinderella (Rogers and Hammerstein)

If given the choice between making an ass out of himself and winning, or maintaining his honor and losing, Felix would take victory nine times out of ten.  
  
He realized too late he should have let this be the tenth. 

“It’s _Ten Minutes Ago_ from _Cinderella_.” Felix mumbled, feeling his cheeks flush red as three mouths gaped open at him. He picked up his beer, distracting himself from the stares and weighing his life choices.  
  
Sylvain blinked twice before staring back down at the paper and whispered, “Yeah, okay. Who wrote it? It’s not the song, it’s the artist.”  
  
“Rodgers and Hammerstein.” Felix answered, and even as his ears burned he said, “If you say anything I won’t answer another question the entire round.”  
  
Ingrid gave each of her friends a warning glare, “It’s the last round and we’re in second place. There are free drinks on the line.” Sylvain opened his mouth to speak again before Ingrid threatened, “Stop it, we need him.” 

“I have a thousand questions that I am holding in, just so you know,” Sylvain jumped as Ingrid elbowed him and Felix rolled his eyes. The interrogation was shelved as the song changed and Dimitri whispered that it was by _Nine in The Afternoon_ by Panic! at the Disco.  
  
Sylvain, their designated scribe with his notoriously perfect handwriting, was silenced as he began writing the next answer.  
  
The moment was forgotten until the emcee announced team, “ _I haven’t made a new friend since I was eight_!” had won the day and Sylvain insisted on toasting to “Felix’s inexplicable love of Musical Theatre.”  
  
Felix threw his free victory beer in his best friend’s face. It was worth it. 

* * *

Sharing a cab home with Ingrid was convenient, and responsible. However, Felix knew as their ride pulled up he was in for the third degree. Almost as soon as the doors were closed she turned towards him- Ingrid just couldn’t leave something unsaid. The cab sped down the highway and Felix cursed. They were still too far away for him to open the door and walk the rest of the way- his usual strategy for getting out of awkward conversations. He was stuck.  
  
“Felix you haven’t listened to something that couldn’t be considered _angsty music for recovering emo kids_ in nearly a decade. Where did that answer come from?” She at least had the grace not to make any wild accusations about a double life where he was an actor.   
  
It didn’t mean he wanted to answer her question- The answer was way, way worse than him having some secret interest he’d never mentioned in twenty years of friendship.  
  
Felix stared out the window and decided that honesty might placate Ingrid. 

“Annette listens to a lot of musical theatre.” He said to the road.

Ingrid crossed her arms, asking knowingly, “Okay, but why do you know who wrote it? I couldn’t tell you anything Dorothea listens to, it’s all in Italian.” 

  
“I know because I ask her about it. We have to talk about something.” Felix rolled his eyes, she was making far too much out of absolutely nothing.  
  
Because it was _absolutely nothing_. 

“You ask your roommate specific questions about her musical tastes? And remember the answers?” Accusation filled the backseat of the Corolla. 

“I’m being friendly.” Felix grumbled.  
  
Ingrid raised an eyebrow, “You’re not friendly.”   
  
She wasn’t wrong. Felix had his hands full with the friends he did have- in fact, had Sylvain not gone off and earned a huge raise he would have been perfectly content to keep living with him indefinitely. Felix didn’t make new friends.  
  
Annette was the exception.  
  
And only by necessity. 

Annette won him over by absolutely crushing everyone at a game of Jenga at Dimitri’s birthday party. He’d barely spent a half hour with her, exchanged a half dozen words, but his eyes kept drifting to her across from Dimitri’s coffee table. From the time he was old enough to realize what crushes were Felix was highly aware that the thing he found most attractive in the world was watching someone be _insanely_ good and competent at something. Annette’s focused gaze seemed to pick exactly the right block every time, and when Sylvain accused her of being lucky she looked him dead in the eye and said, “I don’t need to be lucky, I’m smart.”  
  
Then she stood up to get a new drink and bumped the table, knocking the whole thing over.  
  
Mercedes off handedly mentioned how sad she was to be giving Annette up as a roommate and Sylvain, damn him, said that it was funny that Annette was looking for a roommate _Felix is too, what a coincidence._  
  
It was like watching two overeager parents arrange a match. They were trying too hard. 

Felix rolled his eyes and stewed silently as Mercedes and Sylvain talked about their qualities back and forth until Annette dragged him off into the kitchen so they could actually talk to each other.  
  
She’d bounced on her toes, pouring herself another vodka soda, “First question, what’s your ideal apartment temperature?” He couldn’t believe she was actually considering it- they’d known each other for 30 minutes. He was her roommate’s boyfriend’s best friend’s friend, not exactly a strong connection. 

“Generally or to sleep?” He asked, picking the label on his beer.  
  
“Ahh, very good.” She laughed, and he realized he couldn’t quite tell what color her eyes were. “Both, assuming they’re different. Which they should be.”  
  
He nodded in agreement, “Colder to sleep, but Sylvain used to turn the heat off in the winter if I wasn’t watching.”  
  
“When you were in college?” Annette asked, taking a sharpie and writing her name in loopy script on her cup. He remembered how she’d introduced herself, “Two ns, two ts,” and suppressed a smile.  
  
“No. Currently.”  
  
Annette’s eyes bugged wide, “Sylvain sleeps without heat, in Fhirdiad, in _winter_?” She shivered slightly. 

  
“I made him start opening a window. I can’t tolerate that level of northern stubbornness.” He looked away from his nearly destroyed bottle and decided her eyes were blue. Not that it mattered.  
  
“68 to sleep, higher during the day. No open windows required. I’m not getting frostbite in my own home.” Annette declared, and Felix decided he liked her.  
  
He usually found people who talked to fill space annoying, but there was some challenge to following Annette’s unpredictable thought patterns that made him hang on every word. Even if Felix was prickly, Annette found him interesting enough to just _keep talking_ until they realized they had enough in common. 

They _were_ compatible roommates- Sylvain had housebroken Felix enough that he didn’t make a mess of common areas. He didn’t invite people over. He was too fanatical about his health to smoke.  
  
She was a teacher and woke up at the crack of dawn anyway, so she wouldn’t get annoyed by his early morning workouts. She didn’t have a car, so they wouldn’t fight about the parking spot. Felix’s apartment was closer to her job and the rent was affordable enough. 

It wasn’t until she started unpacking boxes into Sylvain’s old room that Felix realized he made a mistake. As she hung her clothes in color order in her closet, he could hear the faintest notes of her singing. He’d been fully standing in her doorway before he realized he’d crept closer to listen. 

* * *

He needed to stop doing this. 

Felix Fraldarius, noted workaholic and grumpy asshole, was eavesdropping on his roommate. Again. 

  
Maybe not eavesdropping. Annette (two ns, two ts) was loud. She talked to herself, practicing her lessons or thinking through ideas. That wasn’t distracting, he could drown that out.  
  
But her singing? He couldn’t drown it out because he was quickly becoming addicted to it. She sang while she cleaned, sorted, cooked, baked, showered. She did little workout classes in their living room with her headphones on and sang along to the music.  
  
The shower was really the most embarrassing part. He used to stretch after his runs in his bedroom, but if he stretched in the living room he could hear her. It wasn’t gross or anything, he wasn’t trying to catch a glimpse of her. He liked to hear her early morning performances.  
  
She put on music when she got ready, and always sang along. Somehow she knew all the words to everything she blasted. Annette liked to play all of the characters, her voice bouncing around octaves as she told herself the first thirty minutes of a story every morning.  
  
7AM was quickly becoming his favorite part of the day. She didn’t need to know about his change in routine.  
  
“What was that one?” He asked as she entered the kitchen, dressed for the day with little pencil earrings. He used to shower as soon as he stretched, but now that waited until after Annette left for the day. He liked having breakfast with her.

He was just being a decent roommate.  
  
“You can’t possibly be interested,” She waved him off, reaching into their fridge for some milk as she put the kettle on.  
  
“I won trivia last week because you went on that _Cinderella_ kick.”  
  
“Really?” She gave him a suspicious look but resumed her activities when he shrugged and explained, “The category was “Songs of Time. No one else at The Wilted Rose knew it so we got the 10 point bonus.” 

She grinned, “That’s clever. Well glad to be of service. That was _Assassins_ by the way.” 

That could not possibly be the name of a musical. “You’re kidding.”  
  
“On my life,” and for good measure she opened up her phone and showed him the tracklist, “It’s great actually. Not every single musical is about love and fairytales.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. Nearly everything she listened to neatly fell into one of those two categories. “Not as far as I’ve heard.”  
  
Annette’s cheeks took on just a hint of redness as she admitted, “Okay a lot are.” Looking up from her cereal bowl her eyes met his, “I didn’t realize you paid attention.”  
  
Felix felt himself turn red and suddenly found his protein poweder painfully interesting, “I uh… I like music. It’s new, I never gave it a chance before.”  
  
He liked more than music. 

* * *

The next day she played something called _A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder_.  
  
The next, _Sweeney Todd._  
  
Then _Little Shop of Horrors_.  
  
As he half listened to _Chicago_ he realized there was a theme. 

  
She returned to her fairytale phase for a few days, getting through _Into the Woods_ bit by bit- until the second act began playing and Felix realized that too was a musical about murder. 

* * *

  
Annette sang literally all the time, and while he didn’t necessarily agree with her taste in music universally- he had half a mind to ban _Phantom of the Opera_ from their apartment while he was home- it didn’t keep things from creeping into his mind. Constantly.  
  
  
And it was never the musical theatre with its plots and rhyme schemes and clever musical conventions. No, today he’d been haunted by Annette’s dish song.  
  
_Wash wash wash, little dish little dish, cuz you’re all empty now. But you’ll dry overnight, and to my delight, you’ll be full again tomorrow._  
  
It was one of her catchier songs, no _you should pay more attention when you do your homework (the grading song)_ , but her songs were weirdly hypnotic. If only the tune would leave his head and grant him a moment of peace.  
  
Annette liked to talk about their days after he came home from work, and he looked forward to being pulled out of his thoughts if only to make some small talk and bitch about his boss, again. The irony wasn’t lost, how Annette’s songs bounced around his head all day and the only relief from it was talking to Annette.  
  
She was the illness, she was the cure.  
  
He was screwed. She was his roommate and they had nine months left on their lease. If she found out things would turn weird and awkward. Their easy companionship would be dead. She’d probably move out, he wouldn’t blame her.  
  
Friends. They were friends. 

As soon as Felix walked through the door he realized something was off. Annette’s shoes were lined up neatly by the door. Normal, she got off work before him. His eyes caught on her bag, dumped carelessly on the floor. Unusual, but not unheard of. The lights were all off. Strange. 

He tried to tell himself the churning in his stomach was unnecessary. Maybe she’d gone on a walk. Or been in a rush to meet up with Mercedes. 

As he walked into the living room it was bathed in the soft blue glow of the television. The shades were drawn, and he could just make out that the lump of blankets on the couch had a tuft of red hair pulled into a bun.  
  
“Hey Felix.” Annette’s voice called out weakly from the couch. It lacked the usual cheer of her greeting.  
  
“Hey,” He replied, trying to go through his usual motions of unpacking his lunch bag into the dishwasher. Maybe she took a nap, that’s why her voice sounded so thin. 

It was eerily silent. The rush of water from the tap or the occasional opening of a cabinet filled the air and faded just as quickly.  
  
“I was going to order Thai for dinner. Do you want any?” Felix called out to the unmoving pile on the couch.   
  
No answer. Maybe she was sick then? Asleep?  
  
He walked into the living room and saw that Annette was indeed awake, staring pensively into the middle distance in the low light.  
  
“Hey Annette,” Felix said, a little louder than before as he entered. She jumped at the volume, shrieking and placing her hand on her chest as she finally noticed him.  
  
“Ah! Oh! You scared me Felix!” She stammered out, pulling the blankets that engulfed the couch over to one side. 

He took the signal to join her, asking,“I wanted to know if you wanted dinner?”  
  
“Oh. Um. Yeah. I guess.” He handed her his phone but she paused, staring at the screen blankly, “I’m not super hungry though.”  
  
If there was one thing he’d learned about Annette it was that she was hard pressed to turn down an opportunity to eat pad see ew. “Are you okay?” He turned the lamp on, and as her face was cast into light it revealed puffy eyes and a painful flush.  
  
She’d been crying.  
  
“I’m… Not really. Sorry.”  
  
“Why are you apologizing? I’ll get your usual.” He opened his phone again to the delivery app, cutting her off as she opened her mouth to protest, “You’ll eat it tomorrow if you’re not hungry today.” 

“Thanks Felix.” Annette pulled one of the blankets around her protectively, a fluffy orange one that he wouldn’t admit that he actually really liked using.  
  
Felix wasn’t an absolute monster, and understood well enough that the next step in the dance was to ask her _what was wrong_ , rather than sitting in silence and deliberately forgetting to venmo her for her half of dinner. 

Instead he turned to the TV, still on though not turned to anything. “Were you watching something?”  
  
She sighed, “No. I um… I was going to but I decided against it.”  
  
He grunted affirmatively, not entirely sure what to do next. Felix spent a great deal of his life upset about something or another- he’d always hated being fussed over, even as a kid when he craved attention. It felt patronizing. Still, it hurt to see her so sad.  
  
He’d seen Annette angry plenty of times. Student shenanigans. Administration meddling. Her co-teacher putting off grading- plenty of things could earn an hour long vent that turned her tomato red.  
  
This was different. This was quietly melancholy, from a woman who wasn’t either.   
  
“What were you going to watch?” He asked casually.  
  
“ _The Sound of Music_.” She said glumly, as if the chipper title had offended her.  
  
“And you don’t want to watch it anymore?” He asked, truly not following why a movie might offend her so much.  
  
Annette looked over to him and sighed, “It’s my sad movie. It cheers me up, it makes me cry. I always feel better watching it.” 

“And you don’t want to feel better?” Felix knew how to wallow, but it certainly never made him feel better.   
  
“No I,” She took a deep breath, “I don’t want what happened today to affect me this much. It was stupid, my colleague... It was dumb. I don’t want it to have so much power I’m bringing in the big guns.” 

He turned to her, trying not to sound sarcastic as he asked, “ _The Sound of Music_ is the big guns?”  
  
“Have you ever seen it?” Annette asked, sounding offended he’d dare imply otherwise. 

  
Felix shrugged, “You know the answer.”  
  
She looked horrified, “Your mom never made you watch it when you were on TV? I thought that was a universal experience.” 

“My mom died when I was four.” Oh shit, that was probably too sad, Annette was already sad, he pivoted, “So no. Didn’t really grow up with musicals. Or movies. The closest thing I have to that is the _Rocky_ soundtrack.”  
  
Annette’s jaw dropped, “You’re kidding.”  
  
He couldn’t help but grimace, hearing the opening notes burrowed deeply into his mind, “My dad had it on a cassette tape. We listened to it on the way to every fencing tournament.”  
  
Annette laughed until she sharpened, asking seriously, “Didn’t you spend almost every weekend at a fencing tournament growing up?”  
  
“Yes.” 

“That’s gotta be some kind of torture.” Annette laughed again.  
  
Felix raised an eyebrow, challenging her, “And your cheesy mom musical isn’t?”  
  
“No Felix, it’s a beautiful movie.” She poked him in the arm to punctuate her point and it felt good to see her energy back up. “Fine. We’re going to watch it. Tonight.” She said, determined as she wrestled herself out of her blanket cocoon and reached for the remote. 

If he was her justification to watch her sad movie, then he’d be her justification. She’d feel less sad after, per her own admission. He could watch one bad movie if it would help.  
  


* * *

_The Sound of Music_ was, admittedly, strange. There were nuns. The whole thing felt overly fluffy and bright and happy considering when it took place.  
  
There was something about a single father raising his children as if they were his own private army that scratched at a long healed over scab. But he didn’t need to tell Annette that, too much sad for one day.  
  
“I can’t imagine having that many siblings.” Felix said in disbelief as the Von Trapp children danced around the screen.  
  
Annette sighed, “I always liked the idea. Having that many built in friends was kind of a top fantasy for me. I would have been less lonely” 

Felix shifted on the couch, “You must have had lots of friends though.” Annette was so funny and kind- He’d yet to meet someone who wasn’t instantly enamored by her.  
  
Annette shrugged, “Not really. My dad was in the military, we moved around a lot when I was really little. It was hard to stay in touch. By the time my mom and I settled in Fhirdiad I was half the size of the other kids and I was the kind of girl who asked the teacher if we had homework. It didn’t do great things for my social life.”  
  
He didn’t really have much to say to that, he’d been a lot of things as a kid but lonely wasn’t one of them, “I always assumed you were from here.” Felix said. She certainly spoke with the authority of someone who was native to Fhirdiad.  
  
“Not exactly. We didn’t move here until after the divorce.” Something about the way the words caught in her throat felt significant, but Felix couldn’t really place it. 

He turned back to the TV and realized he had no clue who the woman on screen was, “I’ve lost the plot.” 

“Okay so at this point Maria is in love with the Captain but hasn’t realized it...” 

* * *

They ate dinner on the couch, Annette finally emerging from her blanket fortress in fear of spilling all over her favorite throw. Throwing the blanket to the side brought her just a bit closer to him, and she curled her legs onto the couch, her shoulder bumping against his.  
  
The couch could easily seat five people, but they always managed to end up pressed together.  
  
“How long is the movie?” Felix asked between bites of pad krapow.  
  
“Not sure. Um, let me look.” She reached for the remote and paused. They’d been watching a little less than an hour.  
  
Two hours. There were another two hours. They had work in the morning. Felix tried to take a long run on Wednesdays.  
  
“We don’t have to finish it tonight.” Annette offered, peering at the timestamp.  
  
“How are you feeling?” He asked, already resigned to the answer. She was watching the movie passively, offering occasionally commentary. She wasn’t singing.  
  
Not that she’d offered, but if they were going to watch a musical he was allowed to be a little disappointed she didn’t sing along.  
  
She sighed, “Better. I think?” She didn’t sound confident. He studied her face. Annette’s eyes were back to normal but she’d been braiding and unbraiding her hair all night. Not a great sign for her mood.   
  
_I think_ was not an acceptable standard for someone as happy as Annette.  
  
He swallowed, “I want to know what happens.”  
  
Her lips turned up and he could tell she didn’t believe him. “Okay then, let’s finish it.” 

* * *

Annette was asleep with her head on his shoulder. It was getting late, they were both usually in their own rooms by now. Tonight though, the TV blared out _so long, farewell_ and Annette slumbered totally unaware of the heart attack she was giving Felix.  
  
Felix really wasn’t sure what he was meant to do in this situation. Annette was mildly touchy, Felix acted like he tolerated it. The pile of blankets engulfed half the available space pushing them together and the night got later and later and the movie was just so long. 

She was absolutely, painfully adorable like this. Her bangs curled around her cheeks, and every little breath puffed them out and back into place. The warmth of her presence was a comfortable distraction from the tv.  
  
From his own thoughts. 

He liked her. He knew, he _knew_ he liked her. Still, vague notions of longing didn’t hold a candle to practically having her in his arms.  
  
His heart begged him to find out what that would feel like. Everything about her was so delicate while she was like this, a marked contrast to Annette awake. Annette was like a light, she filled any space she entered with her mere presence.  
  
He hadn’t even noticed she was short until they’d lived together two weeks. He liked it. Liked watching her climb on chairs and counters with a blind confidence that she could handle it on her own _thank you very much_. 

She was tiny on the couch, curled up into a ball with her feet tucked under a blanket. She shifted, shoulder nudging him and wedging herself tightly into his side. 

He tried to focus on the movie. The stakes were higher, the solutions more and more ridiculous. The nuns were back.  
  
He’d interacted with a few nuns back in college, part of GMU still reserved as a monastery. It wasn’t uncommon to stand behind a nun at the deli. They weren’t half as rebellious as the ones on screen. 

In a moment of weakness he reached out and brushed some hair out of her face, marveling at the softness of her cheek before snatching his hand out of the way. 

Idiot. Sentimental, clingy idiot. She was his roommate. She was upset. He was insane for wanting, hoping. 

“Hey Felix,” Annette mumbled, stretching softly.  
  
“You fell asleep.” As if it wasn’t obvious.  
  
“Are they over the mountains yet?” She yawned pulling away from him as she sat up fully.  
  
He made a small noise in the back of his throat, and gestured to the screen.  
  
“Oh good,” she turned to the screen and smiled, “My mom used to sing this song when we first moved to Fhirdiad. We lived in a fifth floor walkup and she’d just start singing whenever we needed to go up or down.”  
  
“Climb every mountain?” He asked, trying to picture it.   
  
“Yeah. She didn’t want me to complain or realize things were hard or anything. She made it a game, an adventure.” Annette laughed softly, “Our neighbors must have hated us.”  
  
“I don’t think so.” In a bubble, sure, he’d probably find that kind of thing annoying as hell. But if it was Annette? Singing to announce her arrival? That would probably be cute.  
  
“She sang the whole four flights up, every time.”  
  
Boldness came easily, “I can’t picture it. Show me.” It was dark but he could feel her sputter as he asked. They were still practically on top of each other.   
  
Annette hopped off the couch and held her hand out expectantly, smiling down at him.  
  
“What?” Felix asked, stomach churning as the realization dawned.  
  
Annette’s smile widened and she was full of mischief as she explained, “We sang together. I need a partner.” 

Felix frowned, trying to find a more elegant retreat than simply locking himself in his room, “I don’t know the words.”  
  
Annette shook her head, “You’ll pick it up.”  
  
“I don’t sing.” He protested. 

  
She smiled, grabbing his hand to pull him up off the couch, encouraging, “Never a better time to learn.”  
  
He would not embarrass himself in front of her, “Annette, I’m tone deaf.” 

  
Annette’s face softened and she squeezed their still held hands, “It’s just me.”  
  
“That’s the problem,” He shot back before his brain managed to realize what he’d said. “You’re just… You’re great at singing.” And he was terrible and she’d make fun of him for weeks. He’d lose any respect he’d gained from her. She’d never take him seriously again. If she found him attractive, which he could maybe admit he _really_ hoped she did, all of that ground would be lost- immediately.  
  
Annette didn’t really make fun of people. He might give her a reason to start. 

Their gazes met and the air tensed for one odd second as the silence became unbearable. He watched as a blush crept over her cheeks, and she said, painfully genuine “It would make me feel better.” 

Well shit, he couldn’t say no to that could he?  
  
Felix sighed, straightening up so he could feel less than foolish and asked, “Okay. What do I need to do?”  
  
“Make our neighbors hate us,” He couldn’t help but crack a smile even through his apprehension, and she continued, walking to the open section of the room, “Grab my hand, and just try to walk to the rhythm okay?” Annette lit up as she spoke, and Felix could see almost immediately that she _did_ feel better.  
  
This was a good memory for her that she was trying to share with him. He could try. He’d warned her about his singing. He could at least keep a rhythm reliably.  
  
He grabbed her hand, marveling at how well they fit together for one sappy moment before she started _moving_. 

They did laps around the apartment swinging their arms, Annette singing “ _Climb every mountain, search high and low, follow every byway, every path you know_ ,” and Felix trying his best to not ruin her enthusiastic singing with his own.  
  
By the second lap he knew the words. They started opening doors, turning on lights, doing laps around her bed, squeezing into their tiny bathroom.  
  
By the third he got a little louder, she’d said nothing and matched his energy. Their neighbors really _would_ hate them.  
  
By the fourth Annette was half dissolved into giggles, and Felix soldiered on keeping the rhythm if not the tune.  
  
Their loop around the apartment once again entered the kitchen and Felix, in a fit of stupid inspiration, lifted Annette by the waist onto the counter as the lyrics, once again, demanded they climb every mountain.  
  
She shrieked in surprise, reaching her arms out to grab onto him for support as she sat on the counter. Her eyes glittered even in the dull light as her manic smile melted into something more content.  
  
He stopped singing as she crushed him into a hug, mumbling into his neck “Thank you for humoring me.”  
  
He froze, feeling his heart begin to pound from the closeness. Without thinking he said, “Any time,” and realized he meant it. Anything to make her smile like this. 

She pulled back for a moment, arms still gently looped around his neck, his hands still on her waist. She held him close, and embarrassment became a shockingly low price for the sensation. One he’d pay ten times over just for the mere chance to hold her like this, with their foreheads pressed together.  
  
The rapid thump of his heart flooded his ears as he dared to meet her eyes. It was if he’d lit a fuse that was just now starting to spark.  
  
A fuse that burned with breakfast and bad tv, so much singing, knowing exactly what she wanted to eat. Talking about nothing because with her it was more relaxing than actual quiet. It sparked with a gentle compassion, an equal competitiveness, a generous understanding that he didn’t always mean to be who he was.  
  


It ignited with messy red hair and blue eyes and freckles and pink lips pressed against his own. 

Perfect, messy, unexpected with her legs wrapped around his waist, the counter digging into his side, his hands finding her hair, and his throat hoarse from singing. 

Annette rested her cheek against his, and he could feel her breath on his ear as she said, “You need to stop stretching in the living room.” His heart fell as his mind scrambled for what could have prompted that and what he’d done wrong and how to fix it. He could feel her lips curl up as he made a little surprised noise, “You never wear a shirt and it’s distracting and I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

He felt a low laugh rumble through him as he kissed the crown of her head, “No. I can hear you sing in the morning if I’m out there. I’m not moving.”  
  
Her jaw dropped, “Felix!” 

He ran his fingers along her sides, refusing to apologize when he felt this happy even as he worried he’d pressed her too far. That this was fake. He'd read too much into it and they were caught up in a moment that was about to end.

She laughed, squirming under his touch before she pulled him in for another kiss. Anxiety cooled under her touch, leaving him centered on her and only her. The feel of her lips against his, her knees around him, her hands pulling at his ponytail. 

  
Something funny pulled at the back of his mind, a lyric from something Annette played months ago. The musical was sad, if he remembered properly. Not about love as it should be.  
  
But there was a line that played through his head that pulled at his heart. The feeling of Annette in his mind, no room for anger or embarrassment or worry. Just her.  
  
_You and you and nothing but you._

**Author's Note:**

> The line is from “I can do better than that” from The Last Five Years which is a musical about divorce and the lines are about obsessive, unhealthy love but uh… Felix doesn’t have the knowledge to know that, k?
> 
> Also do I understand how Assasins (A musical that is literally about American History) and The Sound of Music (notably, about WW2) exist in this AU? No. No, I do not. Handwave away!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
